A Spring Night
by PennyForTheGuy
Summary: A warm night after months of cold, a full fat moon overhead. How could anyone not get in the mood?


A Spring Night

The lines on the parchments faded out again. Was it the flickering candle or his own old eyes? Orsino rubbed them and looked at the parchment again. Two lines later the words faded again. He realized why he was having trouble reading. He'd been up before dawn, in his office nearly all day, it was now two hours after sundown and this report on how many cast iron cauldrons they needed repaired was duller than a meeting of the grass fancier's club.

Orsino sighed, propped his chin up and glanced out his window. A full moon was rising over the harbor and a warm salty breeze was blowing in from the sea. One could almost mistake the scenery outside for being pleasant with that breeze and the general air of calm about the Gallows tonight.

"What was that Rivaini saying?" he put a finger to his temple and dug it in a little as he tried to get his tired mind to bring it up, "Oh, 'a spring night knows no dawn'."

He looked out the window again and the warm breeze tickled his face and ruffled his feathery gray hair, like it wanted to play. Orsino glanced back at his paperwork, then waved a hand at it and moved over to the window sill. He sighed again at the sight of Kirkwall's chains and cliffs. He missed Starkhaven on nights like this. In that city one could look out and see rich green forests stretching down to the river valley. The breeze would be carrying up the scent of flowering trees instead of moldering stone and rusted metal.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose, his body was starting to shut down. He knew he should give into it and get to bed but nights like this were so rare. Kirkwall either sweltered or it froze and he didn't do well in either. Too skinny to keep in heat and too coped up to ever get cooled off properly. He leaned against the sill and stared out over the delta and it's looming cliffs. The coast must be lovely tonight, the thought brought back a memory of his journey to Kirkwall nearly 25 years ago. Just before they reached the city they'd stopped at a tiny inn for the night. The place was old but well kept, surrounded by fruit bearing trees and perched right on the coast. That was another lovely night like this one.

Orsino closed his eyes and pictured his little room in that inn. The windows opened as wide as they could let him see the fat moon and rolling waves, the small but comfy bed he'd pushed against the windowed wall so he sleep with the breeze coming over him. He remembered the candles spread about the room casting soft light around, and the small bottle of Storm wine he'd slowly sipped all night. He filtered out the smells of the Gallows and replaced them with those old sweet scents, plants and trees in bloom and freshly dewed grass mixed with salty ocean breeze.

A smile creased his face and he felt some of the knots in his back start to loosen. His eyes fluttered open but he could still see that cozy room. The door creaked and he was jolted out of his fantasy, but to his relief no one had opened it. To have more paperwork or bad news heaped on him at this time of night was the last thing he needed. He shook his head and looked back out the window and up towards Hightown. Kirkwall Keep loomed above all; not looking a bit as empty as it was. Why wouldn't Meredith just let a new Viscount be appointed?

Another sigh escaped him and he banished the thought. A certain grand mansion caught his eye as he moved his gaze back to Hightown. Hawke had had a statue of her namesake placed on the corner of her roof over looking the cliffs after she defeated the Arishok. Its profile was just barely discernable against the deep blue of the night sky. The smile pulled at his lips again but he fought this one. Bethany had often spoken of her sister's strength and charisma but he was still taken aback when he met her. Hawke had feral eyes that seemed to glow in the slightest light and sharp features. She was menacing, until she smiled at the sight of her sister.

There wasn't much time for pleasantries that night though. His mind wandered over the night to after Hawke's duel with the Arishok, after he and Meredith managed to break through. She was standing over the corpse of the bronze skinned giant, spattered with blood, her chest heaving and her heated breath misting the air. As she turned back to them she looked like a lioness with a fresh kill, every bit the victorious predator. But when she saw them her smile came back, it lit up her face and even covered in blood and hefting a huge sword she seemed as friendly and kind as little girl.

She still had the heart of a child in some ways, never judging anyone and always giving help to those who need it most. Orsino shook his head again, he should stop thinking about her now, but… it'd been so long since a woman had, stirred this in him. He hadn't really thought of her this way still he'd bumped into her in after he'd visited the Grand Cleric a month ago. It was the first warm day since the snows melted, warm enough for her to be about in tight breeches and an antivan style leather corset and low dipped lacy shirt. She looked romantic in that, her arms and shoulders bare to the sun and her; figure wonderfully accentuated.

She giggled nervously when she hit him, and bushed a bit of shiny soft hair behind her ear. The sight that really haunted him was her walking away, those breeches practically hugging her well-toned rump. The image still brought a whispered 'Oh Maker' to his lips. That primal part of him had been silent a long time, buried by years of stress and worry, constant over work and some of the worst of humanity to deal with. Now his body was sharing in Kirkwall's spring, the surge of hormones and desires echoing the warm winds.

Orsino got up from the window at last and sorted out his paperwork, leaving the finished and unfinished in neat piles. He packed away his inkwells and worn quills; carefully replaced priceless tomes on the ceiling shelves. The work cleared his mind for moment but when he finally grabbed the lone candle and made his way towards his chambers the images stirred up again. The windows in his rooms were open as well, just as he closed the door a stronger wind blew past and snuffed out the candle's flame. He stared out the window a moment, annoyed. Even the weather was being coy tonight.

Again he forgot those thoughts with his night routine, but once he was about to settle into bed they returned. It was the rumpled sheets in the moonlight, it was ludicrous but they looked like someone had lain in them only moments before. His lusty mind easily filled the space with long, toned legs; moan inducing hips a creamy bust and a face of rare beauty. He violently shook his head now and mentally slapped himself. If she or any person ever knew that he would think of the Champion of Kirkwall in such a way, oh.

_So what?_ The lusty bit of him whispered, _How many others in the city think of her like that? She has become not just a hero but also the city's favorite sex symbol. It's no surprise, really. And besides, who is to know? How would they know? How would they guess what you do to yourself or whom you think of while the moon shines?_

Orsino swallowed slowly as the thoughts circled in his head. He looked back out to Hightown, and the hawk statue still silhouetted against the sky. As he stared it shifted, moved like it would take off and soar down to the Gallows. He leaned against his open windows and stared out so long his eyes unfocused and his mind's eye replaced it all with his earlier fantasy of the cozy inn at the seaside. The smells and sensations came back, but now there was an addition.

Hawke was sitting on the bed much as he currently was, and he was on the other side of the room watching her. She wore the short loose skirt and the wrapped robe the noble ladies donned when home alone. The way she leaned the silk of the skirt hugged her ass wonderfully, and rode up her soft thighs even better. Finally she turned and gave him a different kind of smile. Not kind or innocent, coy and seductive and that familiar feral glint was in her eyes.

Orsino wasn't sure if he was aroused by this fantasy or if he was scared of it. He shifted it, so she laying out in a more inviting pose and beckoning to him. In that fantasy he got up from his chair, leaving his glass of wine on the bedside table and sat down next to her. In reality he bit his knuckle unsure if he should continue. If he kept going he'd never look at her the same way again.

_Idiot,_ a pent up growl came behind the whisper, _when didn't you want her? Go on!_

Orsino closed his eyes and ran a finger over his cheek, pretending the soft touch was from her fingers. He could feel her calloused but nimble hands grazing over his face and down his neck, then over his lips. They parted and she brought her delicate mouth to his. The feel of kiss slowly drowned out everything else. The breeze kicked up again and he imagined it was her tugging at his clothes and pushing him down on the bed.

He could easily feel the weight of her firm warrior's body over his slender, fragile one. He imagined her skin to be smooth and hot to his touch; her mouth burning his as he wrapped his arms around her as tightly as he could. She pumped her hips against his slightly as he ran long fingers over her ears and neck. Wanting to experiment his broke away from her lips and planted a kiss on her ear. She sighed and titled her head letting him take the lobe into his mouth and suck it gently. She sighed and moaned as he teased, and writhed a little whenever he ran his tongue under it but never got lost in pleasure.

He imagined human ears weren't as sensitive as elvish ones. She turned on him and latched on to his ear. His reaction was much stronger, particularly when she slowly ran her tongue over the point and back down to the lobe. He ran his nails down her back bucked his hips; grinding against her and letting her know in no uncertain terms how much she needed to hurry up.

She keep working on his ear while a hand wandered down his body and slipped past his linen tunic, playing with every sensitive spot she found. Really the wind was helping with this, playful caresses it made felt wonderfully like a woman's hands. He'd wrapped his arms around himself and his shut his eyes tight as his fantasy became richer.

Orsino freed his ear from her greedy mouth and distracted her with another kiss. He pushed her up a few inches cupping her breasts and savoring the feeling of them filling his hands. Slowly he pulled apart her robe; his fingers caressing every newly exposed inch before moving to the next clasp. He undid the sash knot quickly and his hands found their way to her breasts again. He pulled his mouth away from hers, kissing his way over her neck leaving small marks on her creamy skin while his hands massaged her breasts pulling and flicking her lovely nipples. He felt like he'd never had so much fun before; writhing around on a bed with Hawke, leaving his mark on every bit of her sumptuous body.

She grunted and shimmied up a bit, bringing her bosom that much closer to him. He paused to smile at her; then gave her what she was asking for. He trailed his kisses over her breast, leaving one last mark on the rise then took the nipple into his mouth. If possible it got harder as he sucked lightly and her moans got louder. He did the same to the other one still going at his slow pace. She wrapped his arms around his shoulders, squeezing him and pushing her bosom together. She trapped his nose and mouth between them and he gave a muffled chuckle and took a deep breath. Her scent was honeyed and earthy, and with the sweat already beading on her skin it was intensely erotic.

He pressed one more kiss to her chest before unwrapping her arms and flipping her over. He lay on his side and lopped a finger underneath her waistband and pulled the skirt down by fractions. Hawke tsked as he took his sweet time, he slapped her half exposed rump.

"Wait," he whispered to her.

Orsino was sure the real Hawke would never put up with ass slapping but that thought did nothing to dilute his fantasy. There she cooperatively lifted her hips as he finally slid the silk down her legs and tossed it aside. Just like he did with her breasts he ran his hands over her ass and squeezed, grinning as he felt the hard muscles beneath her skin. He left a few kisses and one good love bite on the lovely flesh before turning her back over again. Her hands got busy removing his tunic, in all the writhing some already loose ties had fallen apart and the collar had fallen over his shoulder. She left some marks of her own on his collarbone as she slipped him out of his nightclothes.

Far off Orsino's hands had made their way down to his cock, slowly stroking as his fantasy grew in intensity. Hawke's hands copied his and a crazed smile came to his face, the feeling of joy and ecstasy from being touched and loved by this woman was over whelming.

The slow pace of their love making picked up, his tongue darted out to lick his lips as he imagined the taste of her quim; his back arched as she retuned the favor. He ground his teeth as they finally came to the best part; her lying beneath him panting and pleading as he pressed his cock into her slowly, his own breathes becoming ragged. He imagined her inner walls to be burning hot and as strong as the rest of her, practically pulling him in.

She moved her hips in tandem with his making the grinding all the more sweeter. In between gasps and moans he panted her name, kissing every bit of her he could wrapping his arms around her as tight as possible. He could feel her nails raking down his shoulders and back as he rode her, her legs locking around him and letting him come further in.

In his room his eyes flew open as he got closer to climax, the fantasy was more real to him now. He tasted her sweat; the air was thick with their entangled scents, all he could feel was her body beneath him as the pleasure built to intolerable heights. In the midst of it all he heard her voice crying out to him,

"Love me more… ah, take me, take me Orsino!"

Finally he came, as his seed spilled out of him the image of her began to fade; he had to work to hold on to the feeling of her coming around him. It didn't work well and as his orgasm wore down he was again very aware that he was alone, a lonely old elf pleasuring himself to thoughts of a woman that was unattainable. He lay there in shame for a moment, then fumbled for a handkerchief on the nightstand and cleaned himself.

He pulled the duvet up to his chin after he closed his nightclothes, glancing back out the window again before letting his mind retreat to the Fade. Hawke's mansion was still bathed in moonlight but now a single window high up was lit. Was she entertaining someone? Orsino felt a little twinge of self-loathing at the thought. More likely she just wasn't sleeping. If so, why? What kept the Champion of Kirkwall from sleep on a night like this? His drowsy mind wandered off again, and he happily let it. It showed him Hawke sprawled on her surely luxurious bed pleasing herself with a practiced hand, sighing a name between gasps.

"A spring night knows no dawn." He murmured as he nodded off. He looked forward to visiting the Fade, to playing with pliable forms and images.

Dawn could take its sweet time getting to Kirkwall tonight.


End file.
